


like the summer

by cirrus (themorninglark)



Series: rareprompts [21]
Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, Post-Nationals, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:49:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorninglark/pseuds/cirrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Casual</i>, and Rin's relieved because dramatic farewells and reunions have never been his thing; it's just them, after all, just the guys he used to play basketball and race around the playground with. It doesn't need to be complicated, surely.</p><p> <i>It's just us.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	like the summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crazyinjune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyinjune/gifts).



> For crazyinjune, who asked for Sano Trio post-Nationals!
> 
> Balancing a threesome in a drabble was ridiculously challenging for me ;__; I hope you like it, nonetheless.

"Can I touch?" Kisumi breathes, leaning closer.

"Sure," says Rin. "Not like it's _real_ gold or anything."

"Then - "

Kisumi's smile is feather-light. The daring cadences of his voice linger, drawn across the map of Rin's victory like a border line gone astray. Right at the edge, he pauses. Reaches out.

" - you won't mind if I try wearing it too, right?"

"Hell _yeah_ , I'd mind," Rin snaps.

Kisumi's face falls. "Ahhh- _hh_ , Rin, you're so boring…"

Sousuke, completing the triumvirate, laughs. He crosses his arms and leans back against the stadium's tiled wall, a slow, casual smile settling on his face.

 _Casual,_ and Rin's relieved because dramatic farewells and reunions have never been his thing; it's just them, after all, just the guys he used to play basketball and race around the playground with. It doesn't need to be complicated, surely.

_It's just us._

His towel's still round his neck, so Kisumi has to brush it aside to touch the medal on his chest, and Rin remembers those fingers, curving round the ball, drawing tic-tac-toe squares in the sand. Summer days felt longer, then; they were convinced, not that they'd live forever - they knew, they _all_ knew the fragility of life, they'd kept that silent vigil hand in hand -

 _no,_ not for the three of them the lie of immortality -

Only the simple promise that however long they lived, they'd make it count.

Kisumi made it seem breezy, effortless; Sousuke, like a truth wrested from the dark. And Rin, perhaps, somewhere in between.

"Kisumi."

Sousuke's voice, brusque and low in the hum of of the milling crowd around them, jolts Rin back to the moment and he turns, at the same time Kisumi looks up. Sousuke hasn't moved, hasn't uncrossed his arms, either.

"Your hand," he says.

Rin's gaze flicks back quickly to Kisumi, to the hand on his chest. He watches that hand peel away as Kisumi lifts it, turns his palm upwards and flexes his fingers one by one.

"Wow, Sousuke, you remembered," says Kisumi.

"You remembered too," Sousuke returns, without missing a beat.

"Oi," Rin cuts in. "What's going on, guys?"

Sousuke jerks his chin roughly towards Kisumi.

"I bumped into him at the hospital. Once. Some time ago. His hand was injured. His _right_ hand."

" _What?_ Are you fucking kidding - "

"Rin - look, it's okay, I'm fine now," Kisumi interjects seamlessly, with the easiest of laughs. "See?"

And he raises his hand to Sousuke, to Rin, curls and uncurls a careful fist. His smile's bright, winking out at them from between the gaps of his fingers.

Some things heal. Some things - _well_ , thinks Rin, who the fuck knows?

Rin looks at Sousuke, at his shoulder and the furrow that's found its way into his brow. Aching to brush it off for him, he settles for a meaningful look instead, and Sousuke, who might have looked away not so long ago, meets his gaze. One corner of his lips deigns to curve upwards. Just a little.

Kisumi drops his hand to his hip, cocks his head in a question at Sousuke. "What about you?"

Sousuke shrugs. "The shoulder hasn't really healed. Doesn't matter, though. It's fine."

Surprise flashes across Kisumi's face as his eyes widen, just for a second; and then, he nods.

"Okay," he says, and smiles.

Rin lets out a breath, feels the knots and loose ends in the threads that lash them tight together, coming unravelled.

They've slipped beyond reach, now. Kisumi's secrets, and Sousuke's, and all that Rin couldn't do for them when he was oceans away. Here they stand, naked in the hallowed spectacle of their spotlights and promises of glory, caught up to their whirlwind at last.

_And did you make it? Was it what we thought it'd be, all those summers ago?_

Yes. No.

"You're still competing, then?" asks Rin. "Basketball, I mean."

Kisumi nods. "Yeah. That's why I'm here. Summer training camp with some Tokyo high schools."

"Nice," says Rin. "Is your team strong?"

Kisumi tilts his head thoughtfully, stares at the crisscrossed metal dome of the ceiling.

"I wonder…"

He shoots Rin a smile, edged with sunlight, turns his inviting gaze on Sousuke as he whirls on his heel to reach up and hook a casual arm round him.

"Hey. Why don't you come and watch me play? Both of you. Sousuke. Rin. It's been a while."

Rin looks to Sousuke, who shrugs. "Whatever."

"Sure. We've got some time to kill tomorrow before going back to Iwatobi," says Rin.

Behind impossibly fine lashes, Kisumi's eyes dance. Rin feels something catch in the back of his throat.

"Great. I'll see you then," he says. "I have to go! Hayato's waiting for me."

He steps back. Turns away, with a flutter of his fingers.

Sousuke and Rin, watching him go, do not say _goodbye_ or _see you later_. There's no need to. As Sousuke reaches up absently, brushing a phantom touch from his shoulderblade, Rin feels his steady warmth by his side; feels his medal, heavy on his chest. Long, graceful fingers grazing the golden surface.

They are brash, and they are brilliant, and Rin knows, they're a hell of a handful. They were careless children, rivals one second and allies the next, prodding, relentlessly, at the fault lines between them, and they're careless still, it seems. This is how they play their games. Always have. 

Their hands brush, the back of Sousuke's palm rough on Rin's.

"Kisumi - he's really - "

Sousuke starts, pauses halfway abruptly. His voice is etched with frustration, like he doesn't have a word for what Kisumi is, and something - something else -

"Yeah," says Rin. Casual. Their fingertips touch.

Rin swallows, their old mantra running through his head.

_Make it count._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Unintentionally, this turned into something you can read together with the [KisuRin](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4275240) and [KisuSou](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4450571) that I wrote in this series.


End file.
